


something urgent in the blood

by Snickfic



Category: Constantine (2005)
Genre: Dubious Consent, F/M, Happy Ending, Morning After, Sex, Sex Pollen, dub con
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-10-31
Updated: 2019-10-31
Packaged: 2020-12-28 17:43:23
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 802
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21140654
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Snickfic/pseuds/Snickfic
Summary: “Is this going to kill us?” She should have asked earlier, when John had turned to her with blown pupils and explained what the recently-departed demon had just dosed them with.





	something urgent in the blood

**Author's Note:**

  * For [elpollodiablo](https://archiveofourown.org/users/elpollodiablo/gifts).

Angela’s hands were shaking. “Is there a trick to it?” she demanded.

“It’s a key.” John’s breath was hot against her hair. He was pressed flush against her, shoulder to knee, close enough to feel like she was wearing a second skin—plenty close enough to feel his cock, stiff against her hip. “You put it in the lock, you turn. Presto.”

“Is that a magic word?” she asked. Her words shook, too. By some miracle—possibly—the key turned. Her hand closed over the knob, John’s hand closed over hers, and a moment later she half-fell into the doorway of John’s apartment. John stumbled in after. Vaguely she noticed that it looked the same. Apocalypse averted, landlord murdered by flies, and months later John Constantine still had the same stained potholder hanging by his oven. Did he cook, she wondered, and then the thought was gone.

“You have a bedroom,” she said—a suggestion, not a statement, because who knew with John.

“Down the hall.” His hand closed over her shoulder, and they were decent now, they weren’t in public, there was no reason Angela shouldn’t turn and take his mouth with all the urgency burning through her veins like some kind of liquid fire.

God, he was gorgeous. Beautiful mouth, beautiful dark eyes, dark hair that hung down over them. Then Angela kissed him, and all her attention was swept away in the flood.

A little while later, her thoughts snagged. “Is this going to kill us?” She should have asked earlier, when John had turned to her with blown pupils and explained what the recently-departed demon had just dosed them with. _Lust, unadulterated. Pure, you could say._ He’d quirked his mouth like he’d made a joke. She’d wanted to kiss it then.

“Nah,” he breathed, his lips to her temple, his hand shimmying under the hem of her blouse. “Might chafe a little.”

They did make it to the bed, barely. All Angela managed to lose were her pants and underwear. It took John a few moments of fumbling and curses to unbuckle his belt, get out his cock, and drape himself over her. Then he pushed home, and for one shocked instant Angela could think clearly again. She thought: _Fuck, it’s been a long time_.

John’s thrusts started to lose steam somewhere during round three, and Angela turned them over and climbed on top. A while after Angela lost count, they got to the chafing John had warned about, and the possibly-expired bottle of lube he dragged out from under the bed could only do so much. The next time Angela came, clenching around him, it felt like something hot flowed out of her along with the more normal fluids. Something urgent in her blood began to cool.

\--

Angela woke to the California sun streaming in the window. Slowly, achingly she sat upright. John was sprawled out on his stomach next to her, naked as the day he was born; somewhere after round two or three, they’d managed to take off the rest of their clothes. Red marks were scored across the pale skin of his back. Angela didn’t remember him taking any damage against the demon that would explain them, which narrowed the possible causes down to her. She reached out, not quite touching, but wanting to. She liked the look of them, somehow.

John stirred, and Angela snatched her hand back. Slowly, cautiously, he opened one eye. “Hey,” he said, hoarse, a little wary.

She offered him a smile. “Hey.” Cautiously he rolled over. Angela saw the moment he felt the scratches, the brief grimace, and something hot and pleased thrummed in her belly. Well. 

Looking at the ceiling, John said, “You know, I meant to kind of—ease you into the idea. Of this.” He gestured to her and back to himself.

Angela scoffed. “I’ve never noticed you to ease into anything.”

His mouth quirked. “Yeah, well.”

Even after a sleepless, relentless night, he was still beautiful. The world wasn’t ending, and there weren’t even any demons in immediate need of being sent back to hell. Angela planted a hand by John’s head and bent to kiss his mouth and his terrible morning breath.

After a moment, he murmured, “Not that the spirit isn’t willing, but—”

“Yeah,” Angela said, but she kissed him one more time anyway before she sat up. “Hey, do you have any groceries? We could cook something.”

“Cook?” John echoed with profound suspicion.

“Or we could do takeout. If you’re not going to take me to dinner before, brunch after is the least you can do, don’t you think?” He laughed, which was as good as a yes. For just the moment there were no demons, no horrors, and through the window, the brilliant LA sun kept on blazing down.

[end]


End file.
